Throw Away the Key
by Kay the Cricketed
Summary: [Hikaru x Tamaki, Kaoru x Tamaki] The twins play cops and robbers with Tono, and their enthusiasm for using handcuffs gets out of hand.


In hindsight, even the twins could admit they'd gotten a little carried away.

It started out as a game. Not even a special game—not even a _you deserve this for something you did because it was stupid, and crazy, and funny, and we liked it but we're not very good at telling you so_ sort of game. Rather, it was late afternoon on a gray-cast Saturday, and they were bored, and it made perfect sense when Tamaki showed up at their doorstep with eager eyes, a yellow raincoat, and humidity-induced curls clinging to his forehead.

They laughed and pulled Tamaki in by the arms. "Let's play a game," they said, in unison down to the very last caught snicker in their throats.

"No penalty games, then!"

"No, no," they said. "We'd never do that, Tono."

Hikaru had a set of handcuffs—he couldn't remember exactly where they came from, besides that he'd asked for some when he was younger, and nothing could beat the real thing. He'd been playing with them for a few days. Before they brought Tono inside, he shoved them into his pocket, an awkward bulk against his hip, and that was why they were there to inspire him. "Cops and robbers," he said, casting a sly glance at Kaoru.

Kaoru held and matched it with his own. "You're the robber, Tono."

"We're the good guys, chasing you down."

"And when we catch you, then we get to lock you up."

"I don't like that, it's too much like a penalty game," complained Tamaki. But he took off his raincoat, and his mouth wasn't frowning.

"Commoners play it all the time," the twins told him. That settled that. Tamaki's eyes lit up and he wouldn't hear of anything else, not even the smallest suggestion, of what they could do with their afternoon time.

At first, it was a lot of fun.

Tamaki wasn't a very good robber, of course—that was _why_ it was fun. He bumbled too much, and talked very loudly, and all of his hiding places were in the arena that a five-year-old would choose. When he ran through the Hitachiin mansion, his feet thumped on the carpet. When he turned a corner to find the twins waiting, he made the best squawking noises, like some sort of a bird or a horn. Best of all, he always fought, even when the twins had him well-cornered.

They accidentally knocked over a table imported from Germany at one point. Tamaki crowed in triumph, hooked his toes into the plush rug, and took off at a dead run. The twins cursed, ignored the table (what else were servants for?), and followed in hot pursuit. The advantage was on their side, being that it was their estate and grounds familiar to their feet. There was something to say for Tamaki's sly fortitude, however, and when Hikaru twisted his head just slightly to see Kaoru, who ran at the same pace beside him, he felt gratified to see an identical half-wild grin stretching his brother's face. _We're going to get him,_ Hikaru thought.

 _He's ours,_ answered Kaoru, with too many teeth.

And these things came true, as they knew would happen, if not in the exact manner which they knew would happen.

They dragged Tamaki out from under their bed ( _so unimaginative_ , they scoffed) and Kaoru sat on his stomach while Hikaru dug into his pocket to find the handcuffs, still waiting and warm from being nestled in denim. "You shouldn't struggle, Tono," said Kaoru, breathless.

"Yeah, we'll get you for resisting arrest," Hikaru said. His palms were sweating.

Tamaki twisted under Kaoru, pushing at his shoulders, and laughed.

"But I'm innocent, honest!" he cried, in proper dramatic fashion.

Hikaru wrapped an arm around Kaoru's neck and pressed his cheek to his twin's, grinning down at their captive. "Witnesses say otherwise," they intoned.

"What witnesses?! Hikaru, _Kaoru_ —"

"Turn around, Tono, we're going to cuff you."

"Oh, come on, that's too far…" But he was still laughing.

And so they turned him over, pushing at the base of Tamaki's neck until his face was pressed to the floor, on his knees and still halfheartedly trying to shrug them off, and Hikaru could smell Kaoru's shampoo and hear, as if it were his own, Kaoru's heartbeat fluttering erratically in their spacious, still room. And the handcuffs went on Tamaki's wrists, and clicked, and the sound shut a door somewhere—or maybe opened it, they were never sure.

"Guys," Tamaki was saying, seizing a giggle before it could escape. "You two, let up, it's time—"

Kaoru, whose fingers were still tangled in the hair matted at the back of Tamaki's skull, glanced at Hikaru with something approaching uncertainty; there was something else there, as well, like a shade threatening to fall. Hikaru felt lightheaded. He felt everything Kaoru felt. He felt Tamaki's wrists, strong bones and pale skin, against his fingers. The blue t-shirt Tamaki had worn was riding up, exposing a slip of flesh at his waist that looked like it would be warm to the touch.

 _What are we doing?_ asked Kaoru's furrowed eyebrows.

Hikaru's tense jaw answered, _Do it with me._

As if Kaoru could say no. As if they didn't do all things together, shared and equal, because everything they did was a part of the pair of them. So when Hikaru slid his hand down Tamaki's belly, fingers splaying, it was also Kaoru's. And when Kaoru bent and breathed hot against the flex of Tamaki's back, arched oddly under the duress of the handcuffs, it was also Hikaru's mouth. Between them, one hand was always occupied in a vise-like grip, bridging their intentions. They touched Tamaki, but only because they were touching each other.

And Tamaki made a noise, and shuddered, and went still.

"Tono," said Hikaru, digging the blunt edges of his nails into Tamaki's ribs. He whispered it again: "Tono."

Kaoru murmured inaudibly, and pulled the neck of Tamaki's sweater away far enough to expose a shoulder with a single sun freckle. He kissed it.

"We're going to take you into our custody, Tono," whispered Kaoru, because it was easier as a game. As a game, they could do this. "It's a lot safer there."

Hikaru felt an awful, determined thing stir in him, which was partly out of control and partly too contained all at once. "You have to take responsibility for the mistakes you make," he said, though it was all white noise in his ears. "You have to…"

"Say something, Tono," they said.

"Talk to us," they said.

"Get up on the bed," they said.

It was hard to see his face, pressed as he was to the floor. But when he turned his head, the twins could see his Adam's apple move in a swallow. "Okay," said Tamaki, so soft that it was difficult to hear him. But he did say it, and that was their permission.

Kaoru looked at Hikaru evenly, and Hikaru looked back.

It was okay, Hikaru thought, brushing against his twin's collarbone with a touch that tried to say everything at once. Kaoru was familiar, and comforting; he knew that jolt to his gut already. It was okay, right?

Kaoru kissed his cheek, and then Hikaru felt a tremor move through him because like a switch, he suddenly heard three heartbeats skyrocket in a room on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

They picked themselves up off of Tamaki.

Tamaki rolled over uncomfortably and stared up at them, considering something, his hands trapped behind him. Then he smiled. It was familiar, too, in its own way.

(They took off the handcuffs long enough to re-lock Tamaki's wrists against the headboard of the bed. It wasn't the best idea; while they took turns with him, he scraped his knuckles against the wall in his writhing, and had to wear medicine cream for many days after before the scratches went away. They didn't remember that part, though. Mostly they remembered the taste of sweat, and Kaoru's stuttered moans, and Hikaru's frantic curses, and clenched fistfuls of sheets, and the way Tamaki gasped in air like he was drowning, or in pain, or in love, or all three. And it was awkward, and sometimes desperate in the way a dead-end can seem—but they didn't stop to think because like a lifeline, or a foundation in the earth, Tamaki's knees held them in place when his hands could not and said, _please don't go_.)

In hindsight, even the twins could admit they'd gotten a little carried away.

But they'd cuffed him, not gagged him. And after it was all said and done, even the cuffs were unlocked, and they curled up on either side of him, interlocking their fingers over his chest. For a while, it was quiet. Their bodies cooled and heart rates slowed and the sheets felt nice. Sleep was creeping up around the edges of the bed, however, so they knew enough to take the chance while they had it.

They said, "You still have to say something, Tono."

Tamaki's eyelashes fluttered against his cheek. His forehead was raw and red from the carpet from earlier; his wrists were pink with initial bruising. He turned his head to nuzzle Kaoru's hair.

"You're the most devilish cops I've ever met," he mumbled, voice thick and drowsy.

The twins smiled matching smiles at each other.

"Tomorrow," they said, "you can try to catch _us_."


End file.
